Doctor Who: The Underwater Menace (3 page)

The Doctor handed the object over to Ben. On the side of it were written the words,
Mexico Olympiad
.

‘When we first left Earth it hadn’t happened yet,’

pointed out Polly.

‘That’s right,’ said Ben, suddenly full of admiration for Polly. ‘It wasn’t due until 1968.’

‘So now it must be later than that,’ reasoned Polly.

Jamie shook his head. ‘Mexico? Later? Och, I wish I could understand,’ he said and decided there and then that he wouldn’t even try.

Suddenly the door to the chamber opened. Three guards entered, armed this time not with tridents but strange-looking harpoon guns.

‘Polly, go and talk to them and ask where we are,’ urged Ben.

‘Why me?’

‘Well, you speak foreign, don’t you?’

Polly approached the leader of the guards warily.

‘
Parlez-vous français
?’ she enquired in her best finishing-school French. Receiving no reply she tried again.

‘
Sprechen Sie deutsch?
¿Habla espanol?
’ The guard looked blankly at her and said nothing.

Not to be outdone, Jamie asked the same question in Gaelic.

In response the guard indicated with his gun that the four time-travellers should leave the chamber and follow him.

‘Well, that means move in any language,’ observed the Doctor wryly. ‘I think we had better comply.’ Ushering Ben and Jamie forward, he said, ‘Women and children last,’ and then took Polly’s hand and led her out of the chamber.

The guards took them through a network of tunnels until they arrived at two large wooden doors set into the stone wall. Turning the ring handles, which were fashioned in the form of two fishes, the guards opened the doors and took the TARDIS crew inside.

The chamber within had been hewn out of the solid rock and, as the Doctor’s eyes darted this way and that taking in every detail of his surroundings, he marvelled at the engineering skills required for the task. Other doors led off to what the Doctor already suspected was an entire city built into the honeycomb of caves and tunnels which lay underneath the volcanic island.

Lush velvet drapes covered the walls. The natural phosphorescence of the rocks which had, up to now, been their only source of light was now augmented by hanging oil lamps and, the Doctor noted with interest, several electric lights set into the walls.

Before them was a long wooden table upon which had been laid four wooden bowls and four goblets filled with water. The Doctor clapped his hands with glee and strode over to the place which had been set for him. The silent guards showed the others to their respective chairs and with gestures invited them to sit down. They then retired to stand guard by the doors which led to the tunnels.

‘Ah, food! I’m starving!’ The Doctor licked his lips and raised the bowl to his mouth. He began to sip at the contents of the bowl. ‘Oh, this is excellent, delicious!’ he enthused to the impassive guards. ‘Pure ambrosia!’

‘What’s he playing at?’ Ben whispered to Polly as they watched on in astonishment.

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know – I’ve never seen him go for food like this before.’

‘Aye, that’s as maybe,’ said Jamie. ‘But we’d better help him or at the rate he’s going he’ll scoff the lot.’

Ben looked disdainfully down at the contents of his bowl – a thick green sludge. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘Plankton,’ replied the Doctor and gave an appreciative burp.

‘What’s that?’ asked Jamie.

‘Small pods and animals from the sea,’ explained the Doctor.

‘Yeah – little spidery ones,’ Ben added helpfully.

Polly’s face turned a distinct shade of green and she pushed her bowl away in disgust. ‘I don’t think I’m very hungry, thank you..

The Doctor smiled greedily and took her bowl for himself. ‘You’d better get used to it,’ he advised between mouthfuls. ‘I don’t think there’s anything else to be had down here.’

As they continued with their unexpected but nevertheless welcome meal the doors leading out from the chamber opened. In strode – or rather waddled – a tiny, immensely fat man dressed in the rich and ornate regalia of a high priest. He wore long flowing robes and a necklace of rare seashells and jewels. Piggy eyes stared out of a heavily jowled face, and an expansive plumed helmet adorned his otherwise bald head. A cloud of expensive perfume reeked about him.

He was followed by several other priests and a small contingent of guards. The Doctor stood up, a beaming smile on his face, and offered the priest his hand in welcome. The priest looked down disdainfully at the little man’s grubby fingernails and refused the gesture with a supercilious turn of the head.

When he spoke his three chins wobbled with the movement of his mouth. ‘My name is Lolem,’ he said and, seeing that the four travellers were not overly impressed, continued: ‘I have been expecting you.’

‘What d’you mean, expecting us?’ interrupted Ben irately. ‘We didn’t even know we were coming here ourselves.’

Lolem looked down his nose at the sailor – no mean task as Ben was at least half a foot taller than him. ‘The living goddess Amdo sees all and knows all,’ he explained in his sibilant tones.

‘And she had a message for you about us?’ asked the Doctor.

‘She said you would fall down from the sky in time for our Festival of the Vernal Equinox.’

‘Ah, I see...’ said the Doctor and looked thoughtfully back at the food which had been so unexpectedly prepared for them. Something very fishy was going on; of that he had no doubt. He suddenly felt very much like the fatted calf. ‘And just what part are we to play in this Festival of the Vernal Equinox?’

‘A very important one,’ replied Lolem, and clicked his fingers. The guards moved forward and took hold of each of the time-travellers. ‘Take them away,’ he ordered.

The Doctor shook himself free of his guard. ‘Wait!’ he said with affronted dignity. ‘I have something important to say.’

Lolem sighed. Sacrifices were always like this, he reflected; it was as if they just didn’t appreciate the great honour which was about to be bestowed upon them. It was never like this in the good old days.

‘Say it then,’ he yawned and began to make a great show of inspecting his finally polished and manicured fingernails.

The Doctor wagged an admonishing finger in front of Lolem’s pudgy face. ‘I won’t speak under threats,’ he warned.

‘You will be granted five minutes to make your point,’

conceded Lolem. ‘Then you will join your companions.’

He turned to the guards and ordered them to take Ben, Polly and Jamie away. ‘Do not worry,’ he said to the Doctor, ‘they will come to no harm – yet.’

Having gained at least a temporary respite from his imminent execution the Doctor was nevertheless powerless to stop the guards from escorting his three companions out of the chamber. When they had left Lolem addressed him again.

‘Now, Stranger, say what you have to say and do not waste any time. There is very little of it left for any of you.’

The Doctor chose his next words carefully. ‘What I have to say concerns a certain Professor Hermann Zaroff.’

Lolem’s whole body tensed – an interesting sight with all his excess fat – and his eyes narrowed. ‘What do you know of Zaroff’ he asked warily.

‘A good deal,’ revealed the Doctor. ‘He is here, isn’t he?’

‘How did you know?’

‘The food – the plankton,’ explained the Doctor. ‘It couldn’t be anyone else but Zaroff. He led the field in producing food from the sea. But I must say that his progress has been astonishing!’

‘Are you a friend of Zaroff?’ Lolem sounded cautious, unsure now of just how to treat the newcomer.

The Doctor hesitated, and then produced his diary from his coat pocket. He began to scribble a note in it. ‘Just send this message to Zaroff and you’ll see.’ He tore the page out of his diary and made to hand it to the high priest.

Lolem had noticed the Doctor’s hesitation. He shook his head. ‘I will take no message to Zaroff,’ he said icily.

The Doctor stamped his foot with rage. ‘You’re making a big mistake, you know!’ he cried as the remaining guards siezed him.

At that moment the doors opened again to admit a tall, slender young girl into the chamber. She was dressed in a simple white robe, fastened at the shoulder with a brooch made from a conch-shell. A complex arrangement of seashells adorned her fair hair which was knotted in an elegant bun.

‘What is it, Ara?’ asked Lolem, obviously annoyed at yet another interruption to his working day.

‘I was told to clear the table,’ the girl said defiantly. The Doctor looked oddly at her; Ara’s bearing was altogether too self-assured for an ordinary serving girl.

Lolem nodded that she could continue and swished grandly out of the chamber. The guards followed with the Doctor in tow. As the tiny group passed Ara the Doctor managed to press the note into the serving girl’s hand.

‘Ara, take this message to Professor Zaroff,’ he whispered. ‘It’s very important. Will you do that for me?’

But before the confused girl had time to answer, the guards had taken the Doctor away.

Ben, Polly and Jamie had been escorted by the guards down a steep winding stairway and through a pair of large stone doors into a huge cavern. The sight within was breathtaking. Huge fluted stone columns towered up to the roof where they arched and met in the centre. From here a large silver censer swung slowly to and fro, filling the air with the heady scent of incense. Velvet drapes and delicately-woven tapestries covered all but one of the eight walls of the cavern. The other wall was dominated by a massive golden idol, representing the face of the fish-goddess Amdo. Her staring impassive eyes and her two outstretched arms, which outlined the main altar area, reminded Ben and Polly of the Sphinx. The flaming wall torches – here in the temple there was no electric lighting –

cast an eerie light on the idol’s face.

In the centre of the temple was a massive high-rimmed well, which was encircled by a shallow channel. Suspended over the rim of the well were four iron beams; at the end of each of them hung a large earthenware container full of water. Each container had a small tap, the intention being that when the tap was opened the water would run out into the channel, and thereby lower the beam into the well. By the side of the well was a small alcove to which Ben, Polly and Jamie were led. A bar was brought down over the entrance, preventing their escape – symbolically at least.

Two armed guards provided a more practical deterrent.

To the right of the statue a door opened and a procession of priests and acolytes entered the temple, chanting their homage to Amdo. They were all splendidly dressed in long green and blue robes and ornaments made of seashells, and they carried staffs surmounted by a stylised version of the seemingly ubiquitous fish motif.

Bringing up the rear was Lolem, who intoned from a large book which was carried before him by a child-priest.

Polly looked worriedly at the procession of priests and the heavily-armed guards who stood by each of the five exits from the temple. ‘I’m scared,’ she whispered, and then asked somewhat dimly, ‘What are they going to do to us?’

Jamie looked around. ‘I don’t see the Doctor here,’ he said. ‘Maybe he’s escaped.’

Ben snorted pessimistically. ‘Fat chance of that,’ he said gloomily. He knew the Doctor of old.

‘The Doctor’s a canny one – don’t underestimate him,’

Jamie said with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. ‘Dina fuss yourself, Polly.’

‘Quiet!’ hissed Lolem, outraged at the lack of decorum in the sacrifices’ behaviour. ‘You profane the Sacred Temple of Amdo with your idle chatter!’

‘Yeah, and you offend my sense of good taste, mate,’

countered Ben defiantly. ‘Dressed up like a dog’s dinner and ponging like a perfume factory. What do you think you’re playing at?’

‘You have been selected as sacrifices to the Great Goddess Amdo,’ explained the High Priest and indicated the well. ‘You will be tied to the beams and lowered into the well where the children of Amdo await you. It is a very great honour,’ he added helpfully. The looks on his prisoners’ faces clearly showed that they were less than grateful for this particular honour.

Lolem returned to the assembly of priests who had gathered before the altar. Their ranks respectfully parted for him as he took his place at the front of the steps leading up to the idol. Kneeling, he began to recite the great litany of sacrifice. None of his prisoners could understand the words he was speaking.

‘Ben, should we try and make a run for it?’ asked Jamie.

Ben shook his head and indicated the guards standing by the exits. ‘Wait for the Doctor to arrive,’ he advised.

‘The Doctor isn’t coming, Ben,’ said Polly.

‘He’s got out of tighter situations than this before,’ Ben reminded her. ‘Don’t worry, Pol – while he’s at large there’s still hope.’

Just then one of the doors opened and a party of guards entered the temple. In their midst was the Doctor whose hands had been tied behind his back. He gave his companions a sheepish grin.

Ben groaned and shook his head in despair. Suddenly all his hope had gone flying out of the window.

Ara had always despised her people’s custom of sacrifice to Amdo. Before his untimely death her father had been an important member of the ruling council who, although a staunchly religious man, had advocated an end to this barbaric practice. While Ara certainly had no love for Zaroff or any of his friends, she hated the self-righteous blood lust of Lolem and his priests even more; and so it was that, after some deliberation, she took the note to Zaroff s Power Complex.

Few doors were locked to Ara and she found her way through the tunnels which led to Zaroffs headquarters with ease. A horrible circumstance had forced her to assume the lowly status of serving girl, but she was still the daughter of a former councillor of the city and was still respected as such by many of the common folk, and indeed the guards.

Unfortunately one of the people who did not recognise Ara’s former noble rank was Damon, the city’s chief surgeon and a member of the scientific elite created and headed by Zaroff. Damon had been a mere scholar when Zaroff had appointed himself his mentor some twenty years previously. Now the humble scholar had become an arrogant, self-opinionated braggart, fond of vaunting his superiority over the others in the city. When one of his servants showed Ara into his quarters he received her as though it was a great honour – for her.